AustenBlog...she's everywhere

11 August 2008

Emme becomes Emma?

Filed under: Screen — Mags @ 5:38 pm

Alert Janeite Sibylle spotted a most interesting page at the IMDb–a possible new adaptation of Emma to come in 2010?!?

We wielded our ninja-like Google-fu and found another page about the film…which indicates to us that the hip-hop musical adaptation of Emma that we heard about previously, at that time called Emme, has undergone a name change, crushing our nascent hopes of seeing Richard Armitage as Mr. Knightley. We are determined to get the poor guy in tails and breeches! Or in this case, gaiters. ;-) But it is interesting news in any event.

Emma

Filed under: Jane's Novels — Mags @ 12:48 am

Best. Monologue. Ever.

“So very obliging of you!–No rain at all. Nothing to signify. I do not care for myself. Quite thick shoes. And Jane declares–Well!–(as soon as she was within the door) Well! This is brilliant indeed!–This is admirable!–Excellently contrived, upon my word. Nothing wanting. Could not have imagined it.–So well lighted up!–Jane, Jane, look!–did you ever see any thing? Oh! Mr. Weston, you must really have had Aladdin’s lamp. Good Mrs. Stokes would not know her own room again. I saw her as I came in; she was standing in the entrance. ‘Oh! Mrs. Stokes,’ said I–but I had not time for more.” She was now met by Mrs. Weston.–”Very well, I thank you, ma’am. I hope you are quite well. Very happy to hear it. So afraid you might have a headach!–seeing you pass by so often, and knowing how much trouble you must have. Delighted to hear it indeed. Ah! dear Mrs. Elton, so obliged to you for the carriage!–excellent time. Jane and I quite ready. Did not keep the horses a moment. Most comfortable carriage.–Oh! and I am sure our thanks are due to you, Mrs. Weston, on that score. Mrs. Elton had most kindly sent Jane a note, or we should have been.–But two such offers in one day!–Never were such neighbours. I said to my mother, ‘Upon my word, ma’am–.’ Thank you, my mother is remarkably well. Gone to Mr. Woodhouse’s. I made her take her shawl–for the evenings are not warm–her large new shawl–Mrs. Dixon’s wedding-present.–So kind of her to think of my mother! Bought at Weymouth, you know–Mr. Dixon’s choice. There were three others, Jane says, which they hesitated about some time. Colonel Campbell rather preferred an olive. My dear Jane, are you sure you did not wet your feet?–It was but a drop or two, but I am so afraid:–but Mr. Frank Churchill was so extremely–and there was a mat to step upon–I shall never forget his extreme politeness.–Oh! Mr. Frank Churchill, I must tell you my mother’s spectacles have never been in fault since; the rivet never came out again. My mother often talks of your good-nature. Does not she, Jane?–Do not we often talk of Mr. Frank Churchill?–Ah! here’s Miss Woodhouse.–Dear Miss Woodhouse, how do you do?–Very well I thank you, quite well. This is meeting quite in fairy-land!–Such a transformation!–Must not compliment, I know (eyeing Emma most complacently)–that would be rude–but upon my word, Miss Woodhouse, you do look–how do you like Jane’s hair?–You are a judge.–She did it all herself. Quite wonderful how she does her hair!–No hairdresser from London I think could.–Ah! Dr. Hughes I declare–and Mrs. Hughes. Must go and speak to Dr. and Mrs. Hughes for a moment.–How do you do? How do you do?–Very well, I thank you. This is delightful, is not it?–Where’s dear Mr. Richard?–Oh! there he is. Don’t disturb him. Much better employed talking to the young ladies. How do you do, Mr. Richard?–I saw you the other day as you rode through the town–Mrs. Otway, I protest!–and good Mr. Otway, and Miss Otway and Miss Caroline.–Such a host of friends!–and Mr. George and Mr. Arthur!–How do you do? How do you all do?–Quite well, I am much obliged to you. Never better.–Don’t I hear another carriage?–Who can this be?–very likely the worthy Coles.–Upon my word, this is charming to be standing about among such friends! And such a noble fire!–I am quite roasted. No coffee, I thank you, for me–never take coffee.–A little tea if you please, sir, by and bye,–no hurry–Oh! here it comes. Every thing so good!”

Add your favorite–feel free to use the Molland’s e-text if you would like to copy and paste.

Good thing he’s not in charge, then

Filed under: Jane in the News — Mags @ 12:35 am

The Guardian’s Anthony McGowan thinks teenagers shouldn’t read Jane Austen.

There are, of course, plenty of books that I don’t much like. Plenty more that I detest. The appalling conservatism of Jane Austen makes me retch (anyone who doubts it - I mean the conservatism, not the retching - should read Marilyn Butler’s stunning Jane Austen and the War of Ideas, which brilliantly nails Austen as one of the bad guys of Eng Lit, assuming you come at it from a Guardian-type liberal angle).

We don’t disagree that Jane Austen wrote very much from her experience as a high church Tory and that she frowned upon the excesses of emotion that characterized, for example, Wuthering Heights (which, if you scroll down to comments, Mr. McGowan thinks is just smashing). That being said, we think it’s a shame that anyone thinks teenagers should be limited from reading whatever they want, because then they might not learn to think and accept or reject ideas on their own and might grow up to be narrow-minded, humorless asses who write nonsense for the newspapers.

Pride, Prejudice, and Vampyres in San Francisco

Filed under: Stage — Mags @ 12:29 am

The Thunderbird Theatre Company in San Francisco is presenting a tongue-in-cheek takeoff of P&P, Pride and Succubus. Darcy is a vampire, Elizabeth a slayer. We’re sure they think it’s terribly clever. Perhaps it even is terribly clever. If anyone goes to see it, we’d love to hear about it.

We tremble for the future

Filed under: Jane in the News — Mags @ 12:14 am

In a desperate attempt to reach out to the Disaffected Youth of Today, the Allentown Morning Call gave a column cleverly named iThink (get it? get it? you put a lower-case I in front of a normal title case capital and the kids, with their iPods and iThings, they just eat it up!) so that said Disaffected Youth might take their entitled whinging public. To wit, the pleadings of one young lady who thinks her summer reading program is toooo haaaaarrrrrrrrd:

The problem with Emmaus High School’s reading list is that it contains a bunch of boring, ridiculously long books written by authors who are no longer alive and were never good to begin with.

The lists lack ideal selections for boys with titles such as ”Atonement” by Ian McEwan and ”Pride & Prejudice” by Jane Austen.

Ian McEwan is no longer alive? We hadn’t heard. But, oh horrors! That BOYS might be forced to read Jane Austen! Cooties! Those books have Cooties!

The only point of summer reading is to write essays when you get back to school. This is practically pointless because as soon as you give your teacher your essay you can expect a nice big C on the paper in the pretty red ink.

If her essays are the same quality as this “article,” that surprises us not at all. Have some fail, dearie.

Truck of Fail

 

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